


Monday Night

by roderich_edelfine



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bodily Fluids, Breathplay, Bruises, Collars, Corsetry, High Heels, M/M, Modern Era, Orgasm Delay, Polyamory, Roderich in lingerie, Safeword Use, Stiletto Heels, background PruAus, gilbert's only mentioned, roderich gets off his lazy arse for once and is a power bottom, the GerAus boys are married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 11:41:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17283404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roderich_edelfine/pseuds/roderich_edelfine
Summary: In which Ludwig is deprived of an hour’s work, cultivates a Pavlovian response to vanilla essence, and needs to use his paid leave more often.Oh yeah, and gets laid.





	Monday Night

**Author's Note:**

> Check out the original I posted on tumblr a few months ago: https://roderich-edelfine.tumblr.com/post/176048731271/fic-monday-night (p much the same but with more spelling errors)

Ludwig trudged up the snow-dusted steps to the front porch of his Berlin home, glad to be back after a few hours of overtime. He knew Roderich was bound to be equally, if not more belated than him considering how much the train lines in Berlin had altered since Roderich last used them. Then there was also that pesky tendency of him always getting lost. If it happened regularly enough in Vienna, Ludwig had no doubt that the Austrian was lost in Berlin at this very moment.

Good, thought Ludwig. That bought him time to do leftover paperwork, the piles of which he sorted through at as he ate his hasty dinner of sausage and leftover bread from yesterday’s shopping trip. He finished off with strong coffee to keep him alive for the upcoming hours of tedious work.

He washed up and tidied the kitchen as usual, after which he admired the pristine, glistening plates, benches and utensils. He breathed in the scent of air freshener and detergent, of Ordnung.

Until Roderich comes back anyway, he cringed. Of course, he’d always appreciate a hot meal and dessert to follow (especially if he didn’t have to make it himself). But mitigating the disaster zone that arose from his once-pristine kitchen? He’d rather pass.

Ludwig armed himself with his third cup of coffee and a playlist of the most jarring Die Ärtze tracks to keep his eyes open. Fully prepared, he whiled away the night filling out forms and spreadsheets till the grandfather clock in the corner struck nine. It occurred to him that Roderich still hadn’t come home, even though it had been dark for hours. He resolved to to give him a call if he wasn’t back by ten.

To Ludwig’s relief, that was unnecessary when after half an hour the front door clicked open and Roderich stepped in. Ludwig looked up from his laptop at the Austrian shaking out melting snowflakes from his wind-swept hair. His usually pale cheeks were flushed pink from the cold and the collar of his characteristic navy double-breasted coat peeked out from beneath a thick woollen longcoat. Ludwig had a sudden urge to wrap his arms around the Austrian to ease him out of his freezing misery. If only he didn’t have so much to do.

“Evening, Ludwig,” Roderich called from the doorway. His voice still sounded croaky from the icy air.

“Evening, Roderich,” Ludwig replied, momentarily looking up from his screen.”Late again? Were you lost?” Roderich shot him a withering look.

“No, just had a lot to discuss about the latest symphony, that one I was writing. Seems the conductor and I have very different ideas on how to proceed with the next section.” Ludwig nodded and hummed in understanding.

Roderich unbuttoned his coat and hung it on the coat rack in the corner.

“Don’t you have one in your own office?” Ludwig inquired, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. He really needed to focus right now and an errant Austrian pottering about his office wasn’t doing him any good.

“It broke,” Roderich huffed. “You assembled it wrongly.”

“If I recall correctly, wasn’t it you who insisted on fixing it yourself so you could prove...something…” he trailed off while rummaging through his memory of all the inane and downright silly past arguments between his brother and Roderich. His search came up blank for this particular instance. “...so you could prove something to Gilbert?” A fire ignited in Roderich’s eyes as if affronted that Ludwig would dare insinuate that anything could possibly be his fault.

“Well, you didn’t check if it was correct after I was done!” he retorted. Ludwig internally groaned. To be honest he was grateful that the interaction kept him awake, but annoyed too. Because this drama over a...a coat rack needed to die before one of them banished the other to the couch tonight.

“Alright, alright, I’ll fix it soon, just hang it here for now,” Ludwig grumbled with a dismissive wave of his hand and turned back to his laptop. He fully expected Roderich to go upstairs and settle into bed. Apparently not, for the Austrian planted himself firmly on the couch. He shifted around in an attempt to get comfortable while still wearing his navy coat and boots (propped up on the couch, noted Ludwig with displeasure). 

The beam of Ludwig’s desk lamp hardly reached the sofa where Roderich lingered, but by the weak light he could still make out...stiletto heels on Roderich’s well-shined boots. Ominously tall, 6” heels that Ludwig had seen on Roderich before. It did not make the sight any less comforting. Or arousing, thought Ludwig. Inconveniently enough, a slight yet still very tangible tightness stirred within his trousers.

He didn’t have time for this.

Not having been evicted from the room yet, Roderich pulled up a spare office chair and swivelled it over to Ludwig’s side. He sauntered over and sat himself down. The terrifying dagger-like heels clacked against the wooden floorboards and exaggerated the usual sway of his hips. Roderich leaned back and looked blankly at Ludwig’s laptop screen, mock interest showing right through. Ludwig said nothing and continued typing away, occasionally reaching over to write in his notepad.

A rumble resonated from the wooden floorboards. The German glanced up to find Roderich leaning on his backrest, and therefore unacceptably close.

“Have you been at this for long?” Roderich slurred in his ear. For a fleeting moment Ludwig suspected the Austrian of being tipsy, explaining his irksome behaviour. Not catching alcohol on his breath, Ludwig discarded the hypothesis.

“Only since six.” That didn’t seem to ease Roderich in the slightest.

“Too long, Ludwig,” he moaned, clutching Ludwig’s armrest. “Out at five this morning, all the way till five again in the evening, and still not enough after coming home?” he accused.

“I’ll stop at eleven,” Ludwig replied flatly.

“You’ll stop now,” Roderich demanded. He spun their chairs around so they were face-to-face. It was Ludwig’s turn to give Roderich the withering glare. Once he felt Roderich was adequately chastised, he turned away to tidy up his loose notes with a stapler.

Roderich swept up the stapler in a swift motion, never for one moment breaking his cat-like grace. Ludwig glared at Roderich and held out his hand in hope that the Austrian would snap out of this disruptive mood. Roderich merely tightened his grip on the stapler, a smirk playing on his lips. Ludwig wondered if 24 hours was enough sexual deprivation to push anyone over the edge of rationality. Or so it seemed what with Roderich’s insistence on being on hell of a distraction this evening. He wasn’t even pulling an all-nighter this time; he’d be in bed within an hour!

Roderich pocketed the stapler in his navy coat and slowly unbuttoned it. In an assertion of dominance he locked eyes with Ludwig in case he even thought about looking back at the laptop. Scheiße, Ludwig let out under his breath. If previous incidents were anything to go by, Roderich removing his coat meant a night of debauchery at the cost of his work ethic.

“Seriously…” Ludwig sighed. For Roderich had swung a leg over the side of Ludwig’s chair and now sat in his lap with an expectant air about him. Ludwig looked up to Roderich, whose violet eyes reflected the dim light so Ludwig could lose himself in pupils blown wide with want. Shadows revealed the contours and angles of Roderich’s face: pointed nose and chin, cheek and jawbones subtly sculpted. Roderich grinned smugly at the downfall of Ludwig’s self-control, revealing a glint of pink gloss on his lips.

Roderich closed the laptop, his expression taking a lecherous edge.

Ludwig’s eyes frantically darted to his confiscated laptop (and to think of it, his stapler was still missing) and then to Roderich, now slowly undoing the other’s belt.

“Roderich, the report deadline is tomorrow,” he grumbled. Roderich tried to shut him up by kissing him with plush pink lips. The belt around his waist lay tightly grasped in Roderich’s hands, who tittered viciously. “Frau Merkel will–”

“–not mind if the dutiful and overworked Ludwig Beilschmidt spent some quality time with his beloved husband,” interrupted Roderich in a sultry voice. “Really Ludwig, it won’t kill you to turn down tasks sometimes. I know HR practically forced you to use up your paid leave last year.”

“That was–how–?” Ludwig stuttered. Had Roderich been stalking him at work?

“Gilbert told me all about it,” gloated Roderich as if this was the juiciest gossip he’d heard yet. The two were involved romantically (and intimately) with Ludwig’s full understanding. Knowing this, somehow it still stumped him whenever they amicably shared conversation that didn’t involve verbally ripping each other’s heads off.

“Fine,” he spat. “But if any complaints come my way, the emails will be forwarded to you.” Roderich considered this while absently flicking Ludwig’s fly zipper.

“I could help you write the report,” Roderich offered conspiratorially.

“Wait, no, no, you are not touching any of my work. You know what, I’ll just keep the emails to myself.” Roderich said nothing else, leading Ludwig to think he’d been swindled sometime during this conversation. It was hard to tell with Roderich.

Unhindered by anything else, Roderich’s attention wandered from Ludwig’s fly to his own. He undid his belt and pulled his trousers down to pool at his ankles. Ludwig took the opportunity to discreetly pore over notes for tomorrow’s meeting while Roderich fiddled with his trousers. Did Roderich just get stuck? He could be rather clumsy sometimes.

Eventually Roderich managed to remove his trousers completely. He stood expectantly before Ludwig, an eyebrow raised and one hand on his hip. Ludwig glanced up momentarily then did a double take upon realising that Roderich was still wearing boots.

But they weren’t the ankle-length stilettos Ludwig previously suspected. Instead, wet-looking black spandex clung suffocatingly to the form of Roderich’s shapely legs. The boots continued all the way up his thighs, high enough to leave only an inch of bare skin between the boots and–Ludwig swallowed–matching spandex shorts just as glossy and skin-tight. They were barely long enough to cover the curve of his buttocks and rode dangerously low on his hips. A floppy bow of violet satin ribbon, reminiscent of a gift-wrapped package, adorned the front of the shorts just above Roderich’s groin. Ludwig was amazed that bits of Roderich’s anatomy weren’t jutting out of the shorts already. His own underwear felt constricting enough but he refrained from loosening anything yet lest Roderich lay into him about ‘impatience’, ‘youthful virility’ or whatnot. 

Roderich coyly cocked his head to the side, swaying his hips as he walked. He leaned forward with his back arched and legs spread, lips ever so slightly apart. Ludwig jolted as Roderich grasped his tie to pull him to his feet. Admittedly he stood partially of his own accord, still entranced by ravenous violet eyes. The Austrian led him over to the sofa and it didn’t take much for Ludwig to find himself sprawled across it like the other had done not long ago.

Roderich took his time to straddle Ludwig again, now that he was confident the German wasn’t about to bail anytime soon. Their shared warmth combined with the silky spandex of Roderich’s thigh-high boots had Ludwig’s hairs standing on end. Roderich must’ve been wearing these since before he returned home. Did he put them on in the morning and keep them on for the entire day? The fantasy consumed Ludwig’s mind: prim and proper Roderich Edelstein, dressed to the nines and performing on piano onstage for all to see...secretly clad in thigh-high, obscenely glossy stilettos.

Had Ludwig’s cock not been restrained by his trousers, he could very well have come there and then. The tent in his trousers did not go unnoticed by Roderich, who appeared pleased with this escalation of events. He ran a black-gloved hand across overgrown blond stubble, his hips grinding in half-hearted circles Ludwig desperately wished for him to intensify.

“I knew you were a good boy all along…” teased Roderich. “For a moment I almost thought Gilbert’s stubbornness was contagious!” Ludwig reached forward, aiming to lick Roderich’s plush lips slicked with gloss. He didn’t get far before Roderich perfunctorily pecked him on the cheek to sate Ludwig for a mere moment. He began undoing the buttons on his own shirt slowly and sensually. Ludwig was torn between the fantasy of his fully-naked husband, and the partially-clothed one currently giving him a striptease on an untimely Monday night.

Only three buttons down and Roderich gave up, resorting to sliding the white dress shirt over his head. His usual absentmindedness got the better of him when his hands snagged on the cufflinks he forgot to remove: little silver treble clefs, a miniscule but brilliant amethyst set in the middle. Of course, Ludwig chuckled to himself.

Cufflinks finally removed, Roderich resumed his striptease. He lifted the shirt above his head and Ludwig’s breath caught in his throat. A deep, dark violet corset hugged Roderich’s waist, fastened with ribbon matching the bow on his shorts. Ludwig drank in the sight of his figure tightened so far as to look unmistakably hourglass-like. Lilac lace trim adorned the ribbing of the corset and complemented the violet satin. It all begged to be touched, to be stroked and held.

Luckily the feeling seemed to be mutual for Roderich who, despite all his past admonishment of Ludwig’s libido, succumbed to impatience all the same. He scooted up to Ludwig, spandex-clad thighs pressing into the German’s torso, his ankles crossed one over the other behind Ludwig’s waist. He leaned forward, Ludwig meeting him halfway. Bare, pink, erect nipples rubbed against a clothed chest. Meanwhile he nipped at Ludwig’s earlobe, blond stubble biting into his own skin. At this rate, Roderich ought to get a rash later if he kept this up unless whatever skincare sorcery kept that at bay.

Ludwig bent down and blushed at the damp spot on his trousers. Ever observant of his beloved, Roderich untangled his legs from Ludwig’s waist and stepped over to the coat he discarded on the other end of the couch earlier. He rummaged around in various pockets before pulling out a bottle of vanilla-scented lube, the same one he reserved for various encounters in unusual situations, so to speak. Pub toilets, the janitor’s closet in the Reichstag, their respective offices in said Reichstag, the backseat of Gilbert’s car…

The scent was intended to set the mood, according to Roderich. All that came of it was a barrage of lewd fantasies every time Ludwig ate vanilla-flavoured desserts. Coffee and cake with the Chancellor became an interesting experience, no thanks to a certain Austrian.

Roderich set the lube down on the couch and fumbled around for something else, this time in the inner pocket beneath his left lapel. Whatever it was, it must’ve fallen through a hole in the pocket lining for Roderich practically stuffed his whole arm down his coat. Or had he discreetly tailored the coat for this particular purpose? Finally Roderich found what he was looking for, evident by the satisfied twitch of his lips.

He slowly pulled it out of his coat: a dusky brown leather collar with a lining of deep violet velvet. A silver amethyst-studded treble clef pendant dangled from it, matching the cufflinks on the shirtsleeves he wore earlier. Roderich stroked the length of the collar then slowly ran it along the back of his neck where Ludwig knew him to be most sensitive. He moaned quietly, more breath than voice, eyes heavy-lidded. The moment the buckle of the collar approached his mouth, he gave the metal loop a soft, lingering kiss that ended with an audible pop of his lips, all while glaring at Ludwig squarely in the eye. With familiar movements he buckled it snugly against his neck.

“Roderich, I’m…” he trailed off and nodded down towards the state of his crotch.

“Yes, yes, Liebling.” Roderich tittered cruelly.

Roderich returned to Ludwig’s lap, grinding against Ludwig’s crotch. He held the zipper between his thumb and index finger, flicking it playfully and earning a glare from the other. Thankfully Roderich pulled the zipper down, perhaps the most merciful thing he did for him this week. Ludwig’s swollen, reddened erection swung free. The Austrian was a picture of blissful satisfaction as he took the cock between his inner thighs still covered in those revealing shorts. He frotted slowly against the German, taking time to savour every moment of friction. Ludwig grasped Roderich’s waist and arched his back while allowing his head to tilt back.

 

Ludwig leaned forward and sucked at Roderich’s neck but avoided already existent hickeys to allow them to heal. He worked his way down to Roderich’s collar bones and licked along the ridges while bringing his hands down to untie the bow on Roderich’s shorts.

Suddenly Roderich batted his hand away with a mischievous grin. He rose up to his knees while still straddling Ludwig’s thighs. His hand dipped down just behind the bulge of his balls and fiddled with some fastener or another. Soon enough he got hold of a zipper and to Ludwig’s astonishment, unzipped a gap along the inseam of his shorts that continued up until where the curve of his buttocks met his lower back. What…? How much time did Roderich spend trawling lingerie stores to find this sort of thing? Did he buy it online?

Ludwig remained bewildered by the strategically-placed zipper and had little time to brace himself before Roderich took his entire cock into his mouth. He’d never been one to brag about length though he couldn’t deny that it took exceptional skill to down it all in one swift motion. Well, Ludwig shrugged, if there’s anyone up for this sort of challenge, it’s Roderich alright. At this point, his gag reflex was practically non-existent seeing how enthusiastically he’d offer to suck off either Beilschmidt brother (and how often they obliged him).

Roderich took him in until he was nose-deep in thick golden curls and swallowed the best he could in spite of the obstruction in his throat. He pulled away, all while caressing the tip with his talented tongue and rhythmically stroking the shaft with nimble pianist’s fingers. It was moments like this that long hours at the piano made it worth it to Ludwig, That, and keeping Roderich from cluelessly wandering the streets or laying waste to the kitchen.

After a few cycles of deep-throating and teasing the tip, Roderich picked up the pace. His head bobbed back and forth, burgundy bangs swept by the motion. Just as Ludwig was on the verge of release, Roderich clamped his hand around Ludwig’s cock.

“You…”Ludwig panted. “Why...I was close!”

“As I said...,” Roderich took the cock out of his mouth and licked along the underside,”...before,” and he trailed off as he sucked the tip with blissfully closed eyes,”...impatient.” He rose up to his knees and left Ludwig’s cock to hang half-hard, slicked with saliva and precum.

Roderich reached for the bottle of vanilla lube, spread his knees and slicked himself up through that convenient gap in his shorts. Some lube missed his entrance and trickled down the glossy fabric along his inner thighs. Roderich let it be, instead meeting eyes with Ludwig and arching his back into an immaculate curve.

The glow of Ludwig’s desk lamp accentuated every curve of Roderich’s sensual figure from shoulders to nipples, down to that deliciously rounded arse Ludwig now cupped in his hands. Roderich kept a hand between his thighs as he scissored two fingers inside his hole, shortly replacing them with Ludwig’s cock. The German was large, but their previous sessions with toys proved Roderich to be fully capable of taking him in and still leave plenty of stretch for another dildo. Or two, if Roderich was in an exceptionally good mood.

No matter how often they made love, the first thrust always had Roderich screaming in pleasure. He discarded the stoic demeanour he wore during the day for a lustful, thirsty creature so disjointed and unrecognisable from what he publicly conveyed. Ludwig sat back and drank in the spectacle of Roderich bouncing in his lap, impaling himself wantonly, soft moans escaping his mouth upon each descent and an occasional squeal if they angled each other just right. To Ludwig’s relief, the windows were closed.

Eventually Roderich’s movements stilled. Ludwig suspected the other was close. He reached to take Roderich’s softening cock in his hands, when Roderich lightly pushed his hands away.

“No, not yet, dummkopf,” he snorted.

“You slowed down,” sighed Ludwig. Roderich looked away with exasperation.

“I was tired, Ludwig,” he snapped indignantly, and leaned forward to capture Ludwig’s mouth in a filthy, cherry-scented kiss. “If you are as desperate as you seem...,” Roderich paused to play with Ludwig’s cock, “you hold me up and move me. Otherwise I’ll just…” and he sat back on Ludwig’s length, his hole comfortably accommodating the length with a wet slurping of lube. However he simply rocked gently back and forth. From the bliss on Roderich’s face, the subtle movement seemed to stimulate him enough. Ludwig on the other hand, shifted around to try and reap every morsel of friction as he could.

Inevitably that was not enough and Ludwig caved in to Roderich’s demand. He positioned his hands behind the curve of Roderich’s arse and slid his fingers beneath the spandex of his shorts. Roderich’s skin felt damp with sweat, cool to the touch, soft, smooth and clean-shaven. It always amazed Ludwig how painstakingly elaborate Roderich’s self-care routine was. He was even more pleased with this opportunity to fully appreciate his husband’s efforts with his taste, touch, and complete admiration.

Ludwig allowed Roderich time to angle himself when he was confident that the Austrian was secure in his palms. He lifted Roderich a few inches then let him fall. Roderich let out a moan and clenched tightly around Ludwig, sending blood rushing downwards for both of them. He rocked himself back and forth more vigorously as if encouraging Ludwig to continue. Ludwig took the cue by lifting him up and dropping him down again, sometimes easing him down slowly to savour the warmth enveloping his length, skin meeting skin with wet slaps.

By now Roderich was reduced to feverish whimpers, having apparently forgotten how to operate his vocal chords in any intelligible way. He sobbed quietly into the crook of Ludwig’s neck, tears streaming with every barrage upon his prostate. Ludwig paused his movements and took a moment to pull Roderich, who seemed to be reeling from overstimulation, close to his chest. He cupped Roderich’s face, beads of sweat trailing down his temples and plastered his bangs to his skin. The impeccable waves Roderich set his hair in this morning wilted from the dampness, adding to his dishevelled appearance. Ludwig kissed away a tear coursing its way over Roderich’s cheek. He pulled away to admire Roderich’s flushed cheeks and red lips engorged with blood. Had Roderich no objections, Ludwig would’ve preserved this moment by snapping a picture to admire when he pleased.

Ludwig grasped Roderich’s buttocks again, ready to continue thrusting into him from below. Roderich had other plans when he edged away to reach behind his back. He loosened the corset around his waist and turned his back to Ludwig, flushed skin criss-crossed with violet ribbon.

“Ludwig, be a darling and tighten this for me, will you?” he asked, batting his eyelashes.

“Wasn’t it already tight before? Is there something digging into your back?” He poked around the stiffened fabric of the corset in search of any irritating creases or stray ribbon. Roderich huffed exasperatedly.

“No you idiot, it’s fine. But I want it tighter,” and on the last word his voice lowered to a sultry whisper, an impish smile playing on his lips. “Do it, Ludwig.”

Ludwig ran a hand through his once flawless gelled hair.

“Aren’t there...rules...about how tight it can go? Safety regulations?” At the mention of rules, Roderich rolled his eyes and laughed humourlessly. 

“Ugh, you and your fetish for Ordnung,” Roderich sighed, grinding his hips a little. “If it concerns you that much, how about a safeword?”

“What if you’re too breathless to say anything?” Roderich paused. He considered that for a moment then reached for his abandoned navy coat and pulled out the stapler he nicked earlier.

“I’ll hold this and if I let go, that’ll be your cue to stop.” Ludwig nodded.

Roderich turned his back to Ludwig who tightened the corset with fluid motions, honed by all the times when Roderich was too lazy to do it himself.

“Good enough?”

The Austrian twisted his torso side to side a bit, ran gloved hands down the small of his own back and tried arching himself as far as he could go.

“Hmm. Tighter,” he decided with a smirk. Ludwig apprehensively obliged and drew the ribbons in tighter than ever before. He tied off the ribbons in a bow and stepped back. Apparently satisfied with the tightness, Roderich revelled in his newfound ability and ran his hands over his midsection to savour his undeniable wasp waist...achieved at the cost of breathing ability.

He then knelt down on the bare wooden floor, lay on his back and spread his legs just wide enough for Ludwig to glimpse a sliver of pink flesh through the gap in his shorts. Roderich teased his own cock, the other hand still holding the stapler.

“Take me,” he gasped breathlessly while palming himself. Ludwig needed no further encouragement. His already weak legs collapsed and he moved to kneel before Roderich. Although Roderich was bound to be slick already from the previous penetration, Ludwig still poured a generous squirt into his palm just to be safe. He coated his growing erection and Roderich’s twitching hole. Without further delay, he thrust in.

Roderich wailed, voice peaking each time Ludwig dove in balls-deep. The Austrian’s own erection lay against his stomach as it soaked tufts of brunet hair in clear fluid. Ludwig lifted Roderich’s legs and rested them on his shoulders, taking time to run his hands along the calves and grasp a heeled foot in his palm. At regular intervals his eyes darted to the stapler in Roderich’s left hand. Kinky as Roderich was, spending a night at the hospital was decidedly not arousing to either of them.

“L-Ludwig?” he panted between thrusts. Ludwig grunted in response. “C-cover my mouth. And nose.” Ludwig blanched slightly, not sure if he heard correctly. “Oh hurry up!”

“Th-that’s...you’ll d–”

“Die?” Roderich deadpanned. He huffed, somehow pulling off smugness even in this state of debauchery. “It’ll only last an hour or so. If it even happens,” he added cynically under his breath.

“Wait, wait,” Ludwig paused his thrusting, “You did this before?”

Roderich only smirked enigmatically. The German slapped a palm to his face.

“Alright, just...remember the stapler, ok?”

“Of course,” Roderich replied and thrust his hips upwards as Ludwig’s cue to continue. Ludwig resumed his movements and after a few thrusts, he clasped a broad palm over Roderich’s mouth and nose. He’d read about this stuff in those romance guides of questionable accuracy that Francis lent him some time ago. Unsurprisingly Roderich was into it as well. The two did have their past flings after all.

Now, Roderich’s wails tapered off into desperate moans muffled by Ludwig’s hand. He clutched at Ludwig’s shirt, sometimes scraping skin with terrifying vigour. A few frantic seconds later and Roderich started clawing at Ludwig’s chest and then his neck. A shot of fear pulsed through Ludwig that maybe Roderich wouldn’t drop the stapler out of physiological reflex…

Not long after, Roderich’s grip faltered and the stapler clattered to the ground. Ludwig hastily uncovered Roderich’s face and motioned to loosen the corset. His hand was batted away, and Roderich opened his mouth to speak but hoarse coughs cut him off. He settled on shaking his head, pulling Ludwig closer to himself and rolling his hips.

“Leave it, Ludwig. Just move!” Roderich insisted, finally finding his voice.

Ludwig obliged and pounded into Roderich, lube-slicked skin slapping together. Bruises already started blooming across pale flesh. He knew that Roderich would later take every opportunity to tease Ludwig over what and who caused the marks, maybe even as far as to whine to Ludwig at the next world meeting about how uncomfortable it was to sit down.

A kick at Ludwig’s neck dragged Ludwig into the present. Roderich had started climaxing, it seemed. His wails faded into quivering mewls as he approached his peak. Ludwig’s attempts to stroke Roderich to the finish ended with his hand pushed away again.

“I can finish...without your hand,” he panted. A shrill yell escaped Roderich’s mouth. Ludwig watched in awe as Roderich’s cock twitched upright without a single touch. Streams of milky fluid cascaded from his flushed length.

“Ludwig, oh Ludwig,” he sobbed breathlessly. He hugged his arms tightly around Ludwig’s neck while bucking his hips upwards. Ludwig continued pounding into him, magnifying the already overwhelming pleasure coursing through their over-sensitive bodies. He clenched around Ludwig’s girth. The sensation pushed Ludwig well over his threshold until he came too with a yell, deep within Roderich.

The Austrian writhed against Ludwig upon feeling his husband’s warmth spilling into him. The corset he still wore cut his movements short and he fell back to the ground, panting and whimpering Ludwig’s name while they both rode out the aftershocks of orgasm.

Roderich sat up on his heels, not even allowing a minute to pass before he rose. Immediately a string of come trickled from his hole, soiling his black shorts and the floor. He took each finger of his gloves between his teeth and pulled at each one with a deliberating slowness till it was fully removed. He trailed a perfectly manicured finger through the fluid on the floor and licked it lazily, the other hand in an open palm planted on the floor between his spread legs. Ludwig’s cock throbbed painfully from the sight, still in the throes of his refractory period.

He lifted Roderich back onto the sofa, the Austrian squirming in his arms out of protest. Unlike Ludwig who always bolted for the shower after sex, Roderich usually wanted to just cuddle then sleep and leave all cleaning for tomorrow morning. Instead, Ludwig made do with setting the Austrian down and smoothed his ruffled, damp brunet hair out of unfocused violet eyes. With his other hand he undid the ribbon of the corset then licked Roderich’s stomach clean of come. In the sudden calmness the state of Ludwig’s office became clear: soiled floorboards and furniture, notes haphazardly strewn under the desk, warm air thick with the scent of vanilla, sweat, and sex.

As Ludwig was about to bend over for a tissue, Roderich engulfed him in a deep kiss. His tongue licked and savoured the taste of himself in Ludwig’s mouth. He laid his head on the armrest with his legs propped up in Ludwig’s lap.

“May I…?” Ludwig began, gesturing at the boots. Roderich nodded distractedly and drew his thigh up for Ludwig to gently unzip the black spandex clinging to sweat-damp legs. The boots were off, revealing perfectly manicured toenails complemented by a subtle wash of clear polish. He pulled Roderich upright, undid the bow of his corset and slipped it off.

Ludwig picked his husband up bridal-style, pausing for a moment to lift his head up for a peck on the cheek which earned him a sleepy smile from the Austrian. He breathed in Roderich’s scent, strongest in the crook of his neck.  Hopefully Roderich would remember to remove the collar if he decided to leave the house without his jabot tomorrow. And even if he didn’t, the world could be generously graced with the kinkiness of a certain Roderich Edelstein.

He walked past Roderich’s study on his way up the stairs and caught sight of Roderich’s broken coat rack in his office next door. It slouched sadly against the wall and even from here Ludwig noticed worn threads of the discarded screws where Roderich attempted to install them in the wrong locations. He shook his head and resolved to simply throw it out tomorrow. In the meantime, he’d just have to lend Roderich his own.


End file.
